


With You

by Blue_Blossom90



Category: K-pop
Genre: Gen, K-Pop - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 14:32:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6662608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Blossom90/pseuds/Blue_Blossom90
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bang Yongguk thinks deeply and fondly of B.A.B,Y</p>
            </blockquote>





	With You

**Author's Note:**

> Recently, I went to B.A.P’s Awake concert. I thought that it would be fun to turn the experience I had into a short one shot. This work is 99% fiction with only a single even taken from my experience (briefly touching his hand at the concert). I hope you guys enjoy!

Among the things that meant the entire world to Bang Yongguk, B.A.P and B.A.B.Yz could be found at the top of his list. The members gave him the immediate support he needed and the existence of B.A.B.Y reminded him that there was a good enough reason to keep going.

Yongguk remembered the times when he himself had been a fan. He remembered the admiration; how this artist or that artist’s talent had filled him with awe and wonder. He remembered a few songs that made gooseflesh run up and down his arms, remembered the voices that made him shiver.

He figured that his fans experienced something similar.

If truth were told, Yongguk had never experienced as much love for an artist as B.A.B.Y seemed to have for B.A.P. They had been with them from the beginning, supported them silently through their struggles, finally welcoming them back with open arms.

What was more, International B.A.B.Yz seemed to have returned with full force (as well as increased in number). B.A.P’s presence continued to spread, to grow, to astound. The fact that international fans learned Korean lyrics, along with a couple of phrases, just for them warmed his heart.

If their love and devotion touched Bang Yongguk, the fact that he could not interact with them as often stung bittersweet.

Things were different in Korea. There existed no language barrier, they had fan meetings and fan signs, music shows, guerilla concerts. Korean fans had so much more than international fans; yet the love they had for B.A.P was just as great—if not greater in some aspects.

Yongguk noticed it right away when they first arrived in America. He noticed the fervor in the fan chants, the Matoki ocean gleaming in each venue. B.A.B.Y’s cheers were like waves, beating against his body, leaving him breathless in its wake.

It amazed him. It saddened him.

Back home, he knew the name of his fans. He would see them often, talk to them. But here, he could not even begin to wonder what kind of life they led. Every B.A.B.Y had their story, their own personal struggles. Sometimes, the weight of not knowing their individual existence nearly crushed him. There was no possible way that he could know them all personally. It was an impossibility.

First, because they lived in a different country that might as well be an entirely different world. Secondly, because he was a celebrity and they were fans; boundaries were in place. If Yongguk could only get to know and love them all individually he would.

Since he couldn’t, all he could do was include them all in his cumulative love for B.A.B.Y. 

* * *

For every performance or concert, Yongguk managed to memorize a few faces. Some stood out more than others, though that didn’t guarantee remembrance. Yongguk remembered the faces with the most sincerity, the clearest love for B.A.P.

From San Francisco, he remembered the single male fan amongst the girls, cheering for Daehyun. From L.A., he recalled, vividly, the group of fans that had stayed in the hotel next to theirs. They’d been so surprised and shocked; out of the four, he remembered the one that kept stealing glances at Youngjae from behind her wide glasses. And from Vancouver, he recalled the group of six girls that wore Matoki T-shirts, one for each member. They’d held a banner over their heads and shouted until their voices went hoarse then continued to shout. Zelo’s fan had been the shortest, his had had a full head of the curliest hair he had ever seen. Himchan probably had a picture where they could be seen.

Now, in Dallas, Yongguk wondered what kind of B.A.B.Y he would remember.

* * *

The venue had not sold out. It had, in fact, withheld some tickets to sell at the last minute and closed off some of the sections’ rows. Still, the cheers from B.A.B.Y were as loud as ever; pulsing, pulsing, pulsing within his chest.

Yongguk felt the strength of the bass, the heat of the lights, the love of the Matoki light sticks that bobbed back and forth, back and forth. Sweat, adrenaline, music and cheers ringing in his ears, confetti raining down on B.A.B.Y.

Their time drew to a close sooner than Yongguk expected, sooner than any of them would have liked. Years before, Dallas B.A.B.Y had welcomed them with excitement. This second time around, they loved them with more vigor.

Goodbyes were said. Yongguk ran alongside the stage, meeting eager hands, making eye contact one last time. Towards the far end of the stage, he caught sight of a particular fan; specifically, he caught sight of the bright red high-tops on her feet.

In the span of a few seconds he watched her hesitate, watched her friend push her towards the stage, saw her raise her arms up over her head, hands out, reaching. Yongguk took her hands in his as best as he could. Her fingers brushed his forearm, collided with his bracelet. As he drew back, he attempted to grasp her hand, noticed her red nail polish gleam with the bright lights. He wanted to look into her dark eyes as he held on, to make her tangible.

She, however, snatched her hand back, eyes wide. She whirled around before he even turned away, throwing herself into her friend’s arms, hugging her as they jumped up and down.

Yongguk smiled. The moment already becoming a precious memory. He knew the girl with the red high-tops, a precious B.A.B.Y, would remember as well.

* * *

The following morning, Yongguk’s ears still rang from the success of their performance. The echoing ghost of B.A.B.Y’s cheers coursing through his veins.

They couldn’t stay long. Their schedule would only become hastier, busier, exhausting in the next week. They had a flight to catch later; they’d managed to sleep in for a bit, though not much.

On their way to the airport, they stopped at a coffee shop. The members were rowdy, excited, happy that their tour continued to go so well. Jongup lead the way, followed by Himchan. Daehyun, Youngjae, and Zelo walked in a cluster with Yongguk right behind.

A cheery, high pitched voice welcomed them inside. It never ceased to amaze Yongguk how much one could understand with minimal knowledge, tone, and setting. The older woman behind the counter looked a little nervous after hearing the boys speak. They’d lowered their voices, but an unfamiliar language always appeared so intimidating at first.

Yongguk looked around the shop, taking in its small size, wooden floors, tall windows, and quaint décor. He spotted an employee mopping the floor underneath some tables. Her dark hair was tied up in a hasty, extremely messy bun, and her eyes were focused on the task before her. Clad all in black, the only spot of color on her were the high-tops at the end of her long, black apron.

Yongguk found himself straining to see her hands. Could she be one of his B.A.B.Y. from last night?

The lady called out to the girl. She replied in a goodnatured tone, finishing up—or rather leaving her task half done—to attend to the older woman’s command. She didn’t see them at first; she wiped her hands on her apron and stopped to pump some hand sanitizer onto her palm before settling before the counter.

Her eyes focused on the register’s screen, she asked them a question. When she looked up, she found Himchan standing an arm’s length away, Jongup lingering by his side.

“Oh my gosh!”

Yongguk broke into a wide smile. There, he could see them now, her hands. They were the same hands he’d seen and touched last night, fingernails bright red. Her eyes were the same too, wide and shocked.

Himchan gave her a curious look before smiling. The older woman nudged her, elbowing her on the ribs. They exchanged some quick words in a language that was not English; it was a lyrical and beautiful language. The older woman disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the girl to take their order.

“W-what can I get you?”

Himchan, having exchanged knowing glances with Jongup, gave her his brightest smile. “What kind of smoothies do you have?”

His words were slow, thoughtful, careful. When she replied, she replied in kind. Once or twice, she had to correct her own pronunciation. Her cheeks burned red. Yongguk realized that they were communicating in a language that was their common ground not their native tongues. Her English sounded fluid, but that didn’t mean that her tongue didn’t stumble over some words.

The older woman returned just Himchan finished placing their order. He offered his card, but the woman brushed it away.

“On us. On the house.”

Her English wasn’t smooth like the young woman’s. There was something thicker, richer to her accent. Yongguk quite liked it. He could tell that the girl liked it too from the way her eyes glimmered at the sound.

Yongguk approached the counter, pulling his wallet from his pocket. He smiled at the older woman, then looked at their B.A.B.Y. “No, please. On me.”

Unable to take it, she slipped away to work on their drinks. The owner tilted her head back, seeking Yongguk’s eyes.

“My daughter,” she pointed to the young woman, “is B.A.P fan. She _your_ fan.” She emphasized this last point by patting Yongguk’s hand carefully. “She was concert last nigh’.”

Flustered, the young girl said through gritted teeth, “ _Mom._ ”

Her mother waved her protest away. “We charge no money. We charge picture.”

“Mom!”

“What’s going on?” one of their managers finally asked.

Alarmed, the girl rushed forward. “I’m sorry. M-my mom’s just—Don’t worry about the drinks, they’re on us.”

B.A.P could see that she wanted to cause them no trouble. She had been nothing but polite and professional to them after that initial slip. Yongguk recognized her then as the fan that feared getting too close.

She had only just dared touch his hand the night before, drawn away when it appeared she had gotten too close. She loved them so much she feared disrespecting their personal space.

Yongguk grinned, putting his wallet away. She visibly relaxed and returned to work. Her mother looked disappointed.

“Hyung, what’s going on?” Zelo asked.

“That’s one of our B.A.B.Y. She was at the concert last night and her mother wants to charge us a picture for the drinks.”

Daehyun kept his eye on their fan, smiling happily. “She’s adorable. Even her ears got red.”

Himchan tapped the back of his hand on Yongguk’s arm repeatedly. “So let’s do it.”

Their manager gave them a wary look, but said nothing. Yongguk waited until the owner turned in his direction; he raised his hands to his chest, his fingers mimicking the universal sign for taking a photograph.

The woman beamed, procuring a camera from her apron’s pocket. Her daughter placed their drink in cup holders, wiped her hands, and set them on the counter.

“Okay, all set.”

Yongguk grinned, raising his hand, motioning her over. She looked at him, puzzled. “Come here.”

Startled, unsure of what to do, she simply stood there.

“Hurry, hurry,” Daehyun said, waving his hand.

“We’re taking a picture,” Himchan said.

Her mother urged her, pushing her around the counter, a trail of foreign words leaving her mouth. She pulled her daughter’s hair out of its bun, fanning it around her face. The boys gathered before the counter, forming loosely around her.

Yongguk stood behind, towering over her. Himchan and Jongup flanked her sides. Daehyun, Zelo, and Youngjae squatted before her.

“Smile, smile, smile!” She then said something in her native tongue that sounded rather angry. Their B.A.B.Y straightened her back, tilted her head. “Good! Picture! One! Two! Three!”

The flash dazed them all. Yongguk blinked several times, white dots dancing before his eyes.

“Funny pose!” the woman said.

“Mom!”

But she had no choice. B.A.P had already shifted; Yongguk had draped one arm around her, leaned forward over her shoulder, raised his hands with fierce gestures, his expression full of hip hop swag. He had no doubt it would be shot with six goofy guys and one very bewildered girl.

“Okay! Good!”

The members smiled at their fan, giving her thumbs up or patting her shoulder. Their manager grabbed their drinks, reminding them that they had a plane to catch.

“T-thank you so much. I-I’m sorry for all the trouble!”

Himchan gave her head a soft pat, grabbed his drink, said goodbye to her mom and followed the rest of the guys out. Yongguk grinned at her one last time before going.

“She was adorable,” Himchan said, lingering behind with Yongguk.

“Our fans are cute.”

“I think I saw her last night. She was standing next to a girl with really pretty hair. I’d never seen that color before. I wonder if her mother will frame the picture and hang it up.”

Yongguk laughed. “Yeah, me too.”

Suddenly, he felt extremely sad. He would never see her again. They might have another world tour in a few years, but as far as he knew they would never meet after today. He would never see hundreds of his B.A.B.Y again.

He stopped. Himchan looked at him, eyebrows drawn together. Yongguk handed him his drink. “I forgot something.”

Himchan groaned. He hated it when Yongguk made him stall the managers, it was always so annoying.

Yongguk rushed into the café. Mother and daughter stood behind the counter, arguing in their native language. They stopped at the ring of the bell, their faces brightening up to greet their costumer.

“Oh,” the girl said.

“Ooh,” the mom cooed.

Yongguk made his way towards his fan, bowing respectfully at her mother. “Where is your phone?”

“E-excuse me?”

“Your handphone. I mean, your cellphone.”

She looked at her mother, who looked at her in turn and shrugged. Her mother smiled, patted her arm, and headed back into the kitchen, giving them some privacy.

The girl reached into her apron’s pocket, procuring a large smartphone. Yongguk would never know, but she had saved up for over a year so she could change from a crappy 2G phone to a smartphone just so she could take pictures of them at the concert.

“Open the camera. Let’s take a selfie.”

“What?”

“Just do it,” he grinned.

She did as he asked. She opened up the camera, raising her arms. Yongguk took the phone from her, his longer arms giving them a better angle.

He placed his arm around her, drawing her so close their cheeks almost touched. Her hair brushed his face, tickling his neck. She looked at the camera, a tiny, tiny smile on her lips. Yongguk secured several shots before returning her phone.

“T-thank—”

“Now mine.”

He gave her no chance to protest before he raised his own phone. She blinked several times, then lifted her hand beside her face in a V sign. She smiled broadly, her eyes gleaming.

Yongguk inspected the picture, giving her head a small pat. “Good job.”

“Thank you.”

Yongguk knew that her gratitude was heartfelt; it ran deeper than he would ever begin to comprehend.

“Thank you,” she said again, “for existing.”

Bang Yongguk met her eyes, holding her gaze. He knew just what she meant. He felt just as she felt.

He held his phone up briefly before pocketing it, placed a finger to his lips. “Our secret.”

She nodded, smiling, blushing. Then, Yongguk held both his hands up. She looked at them, not quite sure what to do. Eventually, she gave them a tentative high-five. Quickly, before she could draw away, Yongguk captured her hands in his. He smiled, lacing his fingers through hers, holding her hands tightly. Her palms were sweaty, doubtlessly from how nervous she was, but her skin felt soft.

Yongguk gave her hands a gentle squeeze. He gazed into her eyes for the longest time.

“Goodbye,” he said, holding her hands even more tightly.

“Goodbye, have a safe flight.” She gave his hands a timid squeeze.

Yongguk drew his hands back slowly, retreating step by step, their fingers lingering, holding on for as long as they could. When he could not prolong the moment any longer, her turned and ran back to the car. Himchan shot him a suspicious look, but said nothing. He settled down in his seat, feeling for his phone within his pocket, secure.

She had become a symbol; the symbol for international B.A.B.Y, for those that were too shy to approach them, too respectful. She stood for the B.A.B.Y that had to work the following morning after cheering their lungs out, who had families and dreams. She stood for the B.A.B.Y of every ethnic background; for those that spoke English and those that didn’t.

Yongguk had glimpsed her private life, found out more about her than he ever would of any others. He’d done his best to give her something extra, something to remind her that he knew she and every B.A.B.Y existed. Yongguk had done his best to make her aware that her presence, her life, mattered; that they mattered to him.

It was a small victory, but it definitely became a precious memory. A memory that would remain today, tomorrow, forever. 


End file.
